


Trip's POV, Shuttlepod One

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-27
Updated: 2006-03-27
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:30:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8093479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: 1.16 "Shuttlepod One" from Trip's POV...sort of. Postep. (2/2002)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

I blow out the candle, and look at Malcolm...the depth of his emotions startled me. He always seemed so cool...distant...untouchable. "Suddenly, five of six more minutes seem like a good idea," I say, and he smiles slightly. He has a lovely smile.

I contemplate confiding in him, but the moment passes. You'd think after everything he just said to me, I'd be able to tell him how I feel...why I haven't bothered sending out any 'letters' to loved ones. But there's no one at home waiting for me...never has been, really.

Of course, my parents will get the message I recorded when I was assigned to ENTERPRISE, and left on-file, along with a copy of my will, at Starfleet Headquarters. But there's nothing more I need to say to them...what's the point of telling them all the grizzly details of how we ultimately died.

I take a generous drink of the Bourbon, and sit back, contemplating our situation. He does the same...the silence between us lengthening, full of furtive glances, quickly averted. How do I tell him, that references to 'Trip the 4th', or 'Ruby, the love of my life' were all a ruse...that my personal preference was for the male of the species.

Hell, when I first met him, I thought that perhaps I had found a kindred spirit...but his 'letters' home tell a different story. Then again, he did say that he was not really close to any of them...perhaps...

But the thought is fleeting...and the silence builds.

* * *

Funny how a bit of Bourbon can loosen the tongue. Malcolm is really quite amusing, once you get to know him, but honestly, his view of T'Pol is almost too much to grasp...who'd of thought he'd be a 'bum' man...but damn, he's cute when he's had too much to drink. I was just about to tell him so, when the modulated static came over the comm...Malcolm didn't believe it was anything but the galaxy 'giggling' at us once more, but I knew it was more than that. There was no doubt about it, we were receiving a message from someone.

I jumped up to fiddle with the dials. Anything to get that transmission to come in better. That's when we heard it...Hoshi's voice! 'Impossible,' I thought, as Malcolm's words echoed my thoughts. I made a few adjustments, trying to listen over Malcolm's words of disbelief...with a look, I 'shushed' him. Suddenly, the words were clearer...ENTERPRISE was changing our rendezvous coordinates...I took note of the new coordinates, as Malcolm hugged me from behind.

As his exuberance at the idea that ENTERPRISE was not destroyed, but would be rendezvouing with us, my mind registered the last bit of pertinent data from Hoshi's transmission...ENTERPRISE was still two days away.

It felt good to have Malcolm's arms around my shoulders, and I took hold of his hands, where they came together on my chest as I turned my face up to him, and pointed out our latest dilemma. Seeing his face fall as it did was heart wrenching, to say the least. I gave his hands a squeeze before releasing them...I wanted to assure him that we would come up with something, but even I had to admit that it looked grim.

I tried to keep optimistic, as I assessed any and all possibilities...but nothing would buy us the eleven hours we were short. When Malcolm suggested blowing up our only engine as a signal to the ship that we were in distress, I balked...I just couldn't conceive of leaving ourselves so 'vulnerable'.

But he was right...what difference did it make if we made it to the rendezvous point, if the ship didn't arrive until eleven hours after our air ran out. I reluctantly agreed, and rigged the engine to blow when it was far enough away to register as something separate from the pod.

We drifted...the silence once again building between us. I suggested we sleep...the lack of activity would hopefully buy us a little more time. But sleep eluded me...I could not stop shivering. Glancing over to where Malcolm lay, I could see that he, too was still awake, and motioned for him to join me.

We sat side by side, huddled in our blankets. I thought of suggesting we 'cuddle', but didn't think he'd be very receptive to the idea...he was far to reserved to accept such close, physical contact.

The silence stretched on.

There was very little Bourbon left .. Not really enough for both of us to enjoy it, so I suggested making a bet. It had been some time since we had checked our air supply...we decided that if there was more than twelve hours left, he would get the Bourbon...less than twelve hours, I would. For once, I won a bet without being happy about it. Ten hours was not enough time. There was so much more I wanted to do with my life.

As I took the bottle from Malcolm, an idea came to mind. I took a small swallow, then decided to give the end of it to Malcolm, as I made an off-the-cuff comment about the air lasting for twenty hours, if there was only one of us breathing it. He agreed with a small laugh, and suggested I climb up into the airlock and seal myself in.

That is, of course, exactly what I planned to do.

What I did not expect was to have a phase pistol held on me...but the look in his eyes told me that he wouldn't hesitate to shoot me, if I continued. With tears in his eyes, he pulled me back down the ladder. I collapsed into his arms, and we held onto each other. I whispered that I would willingly sacrifice myself, if it meant that he would live to see his friends aboard ship once again...I was touched when he said he would rather we both took our chances...for his life, knowing I had died to save it, would never be a happy one.

* * *

I awoke to the sound of the hatch opening...I could hear voices, yet there was no sensation. It took a while to register that someone was calling my name over and over...it was the captain. With a sigh of relief I whispered, 'thank god...we made it.' Then panic set in. I tried to speak...ask how Malcolm was...tell how he saved my life...

Something in my actions must have registered, for the captain said he would be OK...we'd both be OK.

* * *

My body was tingling...it was not a pleasant sensation.

An instant after I thought that, I realized that it *was* a sensation...one that could mean only one thing. My dream of the captain arriving to save the day was no dream.

I opened my eyes to see I was in a dimly lit sickbay...Malcolm lying on the bed beside mine. I whispered my thanks to my sleeping friend, and was surprised when he replied, and called me Trip.


End file.
